Page 89 of One More Chance
Jensen
To saytoday was rough would be wholly understated. Distracted all day by thoughts of Harper—tomorrow, seeing her tonight—left me unable to concentrate or have a single moment of inner peace. Leaving this morning without saying goodbye to her like I’ve been doing all week was such a shit thing to do. It’s not that I didn’t want to. I was desperate for it, actually. I wanted to call in sick, wrap my body around hers and stay there all day; and I was afraid if I woke her, that’s exactly what I would’ve ended up doing.
To make matters worse, she didn’t text me all day. She’s probably mad at me and I don’t blame her. Or maybe she assumes I just needed space. I don’t know. I tried to leave a note, a thinly veiled sort of lie. Which I also hated. So my distracted thoughts today volleyed back and forth and around and over and through like a fucking maze. One minute, I was thinking I should leave work, run home, and profess my love to her like a maniac. The next minute, I was wondering how I could avoid her until she left because telling her I loved her would be disastrous. Then I thought, but would it?
Finally home, I drop my keys on the counter with one hand and use my other to loosen the tie around my neck. I keep my eyes shut, decompressing from the day, and trying to figure out how to navigate this evening. My last evening with her.
Hearing her footsteps on the stairs, I open my eyes. She rounds down the last step and she’s a fucking vision. Not good. All I can see is the silky black robe cut above her knees and high heels. The robe is tied in the front with a bow, like a gift waiting to be unwrapped. Whatever she’s wearing under it, it can’t be much. The thin material of the robe clings as she walks and I can’t detect any bulges or lines underneath.
“Hey, you,” she says, her voice low and sultry.
Fuck. I’m dead. I’m a dead man. “Hi,” I say, my voice clipped.
“How was your day?” she asks, wrapping her arms around my neck, eyes locked on mine, expectantly.
I wrap my arms around her waist, a gesture fully ingrained and reactive now. “Long. And a little rough.”
“Aww, poor baby,” she says, pressing her lips to mine.
I lean into the kiss, somewhat desperate to memorize everything I can. How soft her lips are. Her scent. Her taste.
“Hopefully I can make it better,” she says between kisses.
My hands move over her back. It seems no amount of bad day, no amount of sadness, makes me want her any less. I grip beneath her shoulder blades, pulling her closer as the kiss deepens. My mouth moves over hers and I realize I have to shake off this mood and do my best tonight. For her. She deserves an amazing last night here.
Suddenly, she steps back, breaking the kiss and releasing her hold on me. I stare at her for several seconds as her hands come up, gently unraveling the bow holding her robe closed. The strands of the tie hang loose as she hooks her fingers around the edges, slowly pulling it open and exposing her body underneath.
Black lace covers over her breasts, letting her nipples show through. The lace stretches down her torso, stopping just above her belly button. A couple of inches of skin are exposed there before the black lace panties cover lower, but still, I can see through them. Her bare legs look almost glossy all the way down to her black high heels.
Harper opens the robe further, pushing it off her shoulders and letting it fall to a silky black pool on the floor. I quite literally stop breathing for a full ten seconds. My breath hitches on inhale and I’m suspended there, taking in the sight of her, committing every line, every curve to memory.
“Do you like it?” she asks, a smirk playing across her lips. Despite her confidence, I can still detect a light pink to her cheeks. This is what I love about her. Slightly embarrassed and yet still so vulnerable and brave.
“I more than like it,” I admit, finally exhaling the breath I’ve been holding. “I love it.”
Her eyes widen the slightest amount, then settle a bit as she bites her lip. It’s not a shy gesture, but more sensual. “Come here,” she says, her demeanor gentle wanting.
I push my hands into my pockets and take two quiet steps toward her, my lips pressed together in a small smile. “What are you trying to do to me, woman?”
Harper feigns innocence and shrugs her shoulders. “Just trying to make tonight special.”
A half-hum, half-growl forms in the back of my throat as I pull my hands from my pockets. I finger one of the thin straps, just over her collarbone. Looking into her eyes, her bright blue eyes, nearly rips me in half. I don’t want her to go tomorrow.
“What if you could just travel around and take pictures?” I ask suddenly.
“Like a traveling photographer?” she asks, startled in this moment.
“Yeah.”
Harper shifts from one foot to the other, presumably due to the heels, as she gives it some thought. “I mean, I would love it,” she says. “I think it would be awesome, why?”
I shake my head, realizing I have no idea what I’m saying. “Just thinking,” I say.
She tilts her head to the side, studying my face for a moment, then straightens again. “Come on,” she says. “Let’s get you out of those clothes. I ordered dinner so we wouldn’t have to spend time cooking.”
Harper leads me upstairs by my hand and I get a full view of her backside on our way up. The smooth expanse of her upper back, the delicate lace, and cheeky panties showing off her perfect ass should be enough to distract me. But I don’t know how I can touch her now, knowing it’ll probably be the last time. Long distance relationships never work. Ever. Everyone knows that. What would I do? Fly down there every couple of months? Have her fly to wherever I am? That would probably only work for six or eight months at best. After a while, it would become tiresome.
I could wait. I really only have about another year of traveling around before I’m promoted to something a little more stable. Once I’m manager for a region, with people under me, I would be home every day and only have to travel occasionally. But wait a year to be with her? I can’t exactly ask her to wait for me. A year from now, she could have moved on already.